


Guardian II

by hawkstout



Series: The Demon Inside Me [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Brothers, Demons, Family, Gen, Ghosts, M/M, Paranormal, Supernatural Elements, posession
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkstout/pseuds/hawkstout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part II of the Demon Inside Me Series main storyline: Damian has declared war on his demon, but what does war look like in the supernatural world his brothers have revealed to him? He learns more about the family business on his father's side, but he still has to wonder exactly what his mother was planning when she gave birth to him.</p><p>And, more importantly, what the demon's real plans are. </p><p>It can't all just be about Dick Grayson. He won't allow that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Names

**Author's Note:**

> There is now fabulous fanart for Guardian Part I chapter 1. (NOT the bad stuff done by me. This is actually really good) http://archiveofourown.org/works/695940/chapters/1280367 It's at the bottom if anyone's interested. It's by the wonderful 阿色-AXEEEEE. Her micro-blog is posted in chapter one, but you need a weibo account to actually see it so if you have one please give her props.

\--------  
 **Prologue**  
\--------

The caves were pitch-black. The sound of bat screeches echoed; shattered sounds that raised the hair on the back of Alfred Pennyworth’s arms. His only guide was a tiny bead of light far ahead of him. 

He staggered and stumbled forward unable to be sure of his footing. Slowly, finally, he got to the lip of the cave. There was a cavern huge and shadowed with a large opening high above showing a dark midnight sky billowing with smoke. In the centre of the cavern was a large fire and by the fire was a young teenage boy wrapped in a hooded cloak. Alfred looked at him sadly when he put the teen’s face together in the flickering light. 

“I kindle the fire,” His usual confident cheekiness was missing, replaced with a blank seriousness. 

“A metaphor for hope?” 

The cheekiness crept back into his temperament. 

“Nothing’s a metaphor here old friend.” Then sourness, “This place is an anchor, see?”

Alfred gazed into the fire.

_A bloody broken body, fire, ash, screaming._

He stumbled back. He had his own nightmarish memory of that night.

“Good memories don’t work too well,” The teen explained, “Anchors need to be strong, permanent. Good times are easily forgotten, but scars cut into the bone. You will always carry them with you no matter how well they heal over. I am his deepest self-inflicted wound. He always returns to me.” He tilted his head, “No matter how many good acts he performs.” 

“You hold the door way.”

“I can’t let you through. He wouldn’t want you messing with his stuff, and right now he’s not at home… so to speak.” 

That’s what he was afraid of.

“Ten Forty-Seven.”

The fire keeper sighed heavily, “Understood, but I tell ya Alfredo, you do not want to go in there.”

Alfred smiled wanly, “And yet I must.”

“Your funeral,” the teen stood. He lifted a bucket and tipped sand on the fire. 

It went completely dark.

“You know how to find me.” Jason’s parting words.

\------------  
 **Chapter One**  
\------------

“So are we inaugurating the little demon then?”

“Jason! Don’t call him that,” Grayson…Dick said sharply. 

“Fine, are we going to be inaugurating your baby bird or what?” 

It was morning, eight o’clock. Damian could hear the voices murmuring in the kitchen. He hesitated in the dining room. Inauguration? He moved closer putting his ear gently to the door. 

“Yeah, we can’t have him wandering in this world without a spirit name. That would be insane.” 

“He may already have one.” Oh good, Drake was there as well. 

“Damian you can come in!” Dick called. He jumped, startled and hesitantly opened the door, “How the hell did you—”

Todd was furiously waving his arms as if he were being surrounded by a swarm of bugs. 

“I know it’s just shadows to you Princess, but this is disgusting and I’m trying to eat! Can you get some of your staff to leave already?” 

“I can’t disband them, it took me months to get them all under one roof with a lot of favours I had to call in,” Tim replied, “They like Dick, I can barely keep them from dog piling on him, much less out of the same room.”

“It’s fine,” Dick said unconcernedly. 

“—Oh, right.”

Dick talked to dead people. Forcing indifference, Damian took a seat around the kitchen island next to Grayson where a bowl of Crocky Crunch was laid out for him. Grayson was cheerfully eating his own. The taste was familiar and felt like home. 

_Since when did that cramped apartment become home?_

He glanced over at Dick then quickly back down at his cereal. Maybe it was the company. 

“I can’t believe Alfred actually lets you eat that stuff,” Todd said taking a ferocious bite of toast. 

“Nah, it’s my own supply, I hide it in the back of the pantry behind the dollies,” Dick explained.

Todd sat across from Dick and Damian every now and then waving his hand in irritation. Drake was leaning against the counter drinking coffee like a prince surveying his kingdom. 

“Oh,” Drake nodded as if this made sense, “For waffle days, right?”

Dick blinked, “What’s wrong with waffle days?”

Damian snorted. The other two looked at him incredulously, “You don’t know?”

“I like Alfred’s waffles! They’re the best!” Dick protested.

Todd and Drake burst out laughing. He only shook his head at his confused guardian.

“You really don’t have many taste buds do you Grayson?” He almost smiled. 

Dick crossed his arms glaring at the older of his three younger brothers, “You two always say you love his waffles!”

“It’s because I’m the only honest one,” Damian rolled his eyes taking a sip of orange juice.

“They’re bad Dickie-bird,” Todd said.

“They’re rubbery and awful,” Tim agreed. 

“Now we know why he’s so proud of them though,” Todd snickered, “Bluebird praising them. It went to his head.” 

“It’s not just Dick. Bruce likes them too,” Tim added. 

“You guys really don’t like waffle days?!” 

“No one does.” They all answered. Dick pouted into his cereal. He suddenly laughed, brightening. The other three waited for him to share his thoughts, but he didn’t. He just went back to eating trying to supress a grin. 

“Fucking Ghosts,” Todd groused. 

It was so normal. A family breakfast, but it wasn’t normal, not for _them_. When Damian had lived in the manor, when his father had been alive, such a cheerful conversation had never broken out. Damian would be doing his damndest to annoy Drake. Todd would go between sniping at his father and trying to get into arguments with Dick. This was so… domestic. Had it been because of Bruce Wayne’s heavy presence, or the secret they had kept Damian from? Maybe they had always been like this, but kept it hidden from Damian. 

It seemed so unreal after his dealings with the Demon last night. 

_I shouldn’t tell them,_ He decided. It would only annoy Drake, put Todd on edge and worry Dick. In the end no deal was made and the devil shut up. That was a good thing.

“What were you talking about before? About an inauguration?” Damian asked to distract himself.

“Oh, yeah! Almost forgot.” Dick said. He swung around on his stool to face Damian. A big smile was on his face.

Damian was going to hate this.

“Close your eyes,” The eldest said eagerly. 

“Dick, I don’t think we should actually give him a—”

“Tim, we talked about this,” Dick was still gesturing for Damian to close his eyes, but he had turned to look at his other little brother, “You’re going to trust me with what’s right for him and I’m going to trust you with what’s right for me. That was the deal.” 

It seemed there were more bargains made than just the one with a demon last night.

“Okay, alright,” Tim held up his hands, but Damian saw Drake’s smile at his older brother’s excitement. 

“Close them.”

He resignedly closed his eyes. 

“Hold still, this isn’t going to hurt.” 

He forced himself not to squirm when he felt something covering the upper half of his face. 

“Open your eyes.” 

He did so and was startled seeing Dick was now in a mask. 

_He must have put a mask on me as well._

Dick’s mask was dark inky blue made out of an unearthly material. What was disturbing about it was that his eyes had gone completely white. On his arms under his black t-shirt was blue… tattoos? Paint? The lines ran down his arms and split off curling onto his pointer and index fingers.

 _Nightwing_. Damian instantly identified.

_Wait I wasn’t thinking that—_

Todd and Drake were now masked as well. Todd’s was more of a helmet, pure red and well-polished. 

_Red Hood._

Drake’s seemed to be a plain black domino mask made from the same unearthly material (no hidden eyes like Dick’s). Around his shoulders there was now a red and black feathered cape that resembled wings. 

_Red Robin_.

“The hell?” Damian asked raising a covered eyebrow. The other three were staring at his face with some anticipation.

“Hah, knew it,” Di--Nightwing grinned stepping back again.

“Ugh, here,” T--Red Hood passed him a five dollar bill. Nightwing took it smugly. 

“I can’t believe it,” Dr-Red Robin said. Bitchy again.

_Apparently I can’t even wear a mask correctly._

“Am I missing something…again?” Damian asked resignedly. Red Hood held up one of Alfred’s shiny baking tins. 

He was wearing a domino mask similar to Red Robin’s but instead of black it was green, around his shoulders was a bright yellow cape under his gray hoodie.

Robin.

“Wait, what?” 

_Those names. T-Red Hood said that they’re ‘spirit names’_

“I look ridiculous,” Damia--Robin opted, “So, these masks?”

“Talismans,” Red Robin explained. He looked slightly pained, like a headache might be coming on. “They’re easy enough to make if you know how. They allow you to walk among the supernatural without revealing your name. It offers us protections formed out of our soul.” He was staring at Robin again. 

“So what? Everyone else thinks we’re going to a costume party?” Robin asked lifting the cape. 

“When we wear the masks civilians won’t notice us,” Red Hood explained, “And if they do they don’t really register we’re some weird guys wearing masks and capes. Only people that know and are looking will see—or if we allow them to see—or if we draw attention… It’s magic, don’t question it.” 

Red Robin snorted at Red Hood’s muddled response.

“Okay… and why am I wearing a ridiculous cape?”

“It’s not ridiculous, it’s looks good on you,” Nightwing beamed.

“Yeah, you said that about all of us Bluebird, and every time you were wrong,” Red Hood said sardonically. 

“Wear it with respect,” Red Robin muttered.

“So now I’m Robin?” Robin asked.

“When you wear that mask, yes,” Nightwing answered.

“So this is the mask you wore?” 

Nightwing shook his head, “No, that’s not how it works. A spirit name is something shaped by the soul and the connections made by that soul. Because of our family ties, who you are, what this mission is you’ve taken on the mantel we’ve all worn. The Reds and I all grew out of Robin in one way or another. It only makes sense.”

“Please don’t refer to us as ‘The Reds’” Red Hood grumbled, “It makes us sound like the Wonder Twins and I _hate_ those guys.” 

“Hood, give him a crash course, I need to talk with ‘Wing before we go,” Red Robin ordered.

“Who died and made you leader? Oh, wait.” You couldn’t see Red Hood’s smirk under the red helmet, but you could _feel_ it. 

“Nightwing’s the boss while Batman is away,” Red Robin contradicted, “So if you can focus on the possibility of apocalypse and not pointless jabs I’d like to get down to business.”

Red Hood shrugged and Red Robin dragged Nightwing out of the room.

“Gr-Nightwing’s the leader?” Robin asked sceptically. 

“Huh?” Red Hood glanced down at Robin as if he had forgotten he was in the room, “Oh, don’t let his happy-go-lucky air-head act fool you. Dick’s… smarter than he acts, but enough about that. Let’s show you how we do it.” 

“Oh please sensei, do tell.”

“Brat. The mask is a protection from detection. You may notice you have trouble calling us by our given names. That’s because of the mask’s field or some such shit. You refer to us by spirit name instead automatically. It takes practice to be able to say a masked ally’s actual name. It’s easier to just go with it. I don’t really get how it works, Bats never told me, we didn’t get there. Main thing, when you wear it even people that know you will call you by your spirit name and, if they’re out of the loop, won’t even know who you are.”

“Then why do I know who you are?” Damia--Robin crossed his arms. This was annoying.

“Magic.”

“That’s not a good answer.”

“If you really want to know the ins and outs ask Robin—Red Robin, man that’s going to be annoying with you two.”

“It isn’t my fault Dra—Red Robin—the asshole doesn’t have a creative bone in his body—or soul.” _Damian_ touched the mask. It felt strange, like it was a part of him. He knew he could take it off, but at the same time he knew it couldn’t just fall off. “Continue.” 

“Now, if you concentrate and look over there,” He pointed to the door that Nightwing and Red Robin went through. “You’ll notice movement, little wisps. If you concentrate they’ll become clearer.” 

He did as he was bidden and gasped. 

“They’re the ghosts that are always following Grayson around, aren’t they? There are so many of them… how does he put up with it?” 

“No clue, I hate the little bastards. Now look over at me.” 

There was a strange red aura coming off Red Hood. 

“What is it?”

“My aura. It’s telling you that I’m supernatural, a fiend. When you get better at it you’ll be able to know what a creature is by looking at it through the mask. Regular human auras are white light and almost impossible to see. Red Robin’s has a bit of black added in, it shows he’s a medium or has spiritual powers.”

“What about Nightwing’s?”

“Normal, human.” 

He stared at him, not believing it.

“Yeah, I know, doesn’t make much sense. It looks normal, but looking at it there’s a magnetic pull. Like, for some reason it’s pretty to gaze at. No reason why. Magic.” He shrugged, “Anyway, the mask isn’t just for protection and detection. These particular ones also give us certain advantages courtesy of Daddy-Bats.” 

“Like what?”

“You saw Bluebird’s symbols on his arms right?”

“Yeah.”

“He can form esckima sticks from them made of spiritual energy. They can basically slap spirits and other supernatural nasties while a solid one would just pass through. He can also electrify freaks if they get too fresh with him. Robin-Red Robin can fly. He was never the jumping over buildings type of guy so I guess it makes sense if he wanted to keep up with Bats and Dickie-bird.” 

“What about you? All you have is that dumb looking helmet.” 

“Right.” To-Red Hood pulled out a gun that was now holstered at his back. 

“A gun?”

“Spirit gun,” Red HoodJasofuck Red Hood brought it up to his own forehead.

“WHAT ARE YOU—?!”

The blast rung in his ears. 

Todd (Triumph!) was fine. 

“Fuck.”

“Practically indestructible,” Todd sounded smug. He gripped the helmet and… pulled it back. It receded and became a hood, a fabric hood. He was also wearing a domino mask, but red this time and, like Nightwing’s, his eyes were whited out. 

It was pretty amazing…

“Freak.” Wasn’t like he was about to admit that. “What about me?”

“I dunno. You’ll figure it out as you go along. Robin’s cape worked differently for each of us. It’s a piece of your soul so it’s really up to you. You get it?” 

“Vaguely. Why is my soul yellow?”

“I guess you have a cheerful disposition, brat.” 

“Well that’s not true,” Damian grumbled. “Alright, so the mask covers my identity. Why is it so important to protect my name?” 

“Let me tell you the story of our Big Brother Nightwing.” 

Damian stiffened. He immediately knew he didn’t like where this was going. Todd was still speaking with his usual cheerful venom, but something had shifted. Underneath the bluster was real anger. 

“He’s the best example of this. Now, Big Brother Nightwing, as you may already know, is a trusting sort. He believes in people. Hell, he believes in not-people. Monsters, witches, red heads… he has friends in many circles which his has trusted with his name.”

“What determines that he can tell them? I can barely think my own name much less say it.”

“Magic.”

“I hate you.”

“So anyway, Big Brother Nightwing who was Robin at the time joins this little group of amateurs, the Titans. They’re all friends having adventures and shit like that. They’re mostly teens or early twenties. It was a fun time had by all I’m sure. They trusted each other with their lives, with their names. They were all friends after all.” 

Damian frowned, he really didn’t like where this was going.

“But, as groups usually do, it shifted around. One guy left, Robin got a name change and they gained a new member, Terra.” Absolute disgust, “She was half earth elemental. Could cause earthquakes, could move rocks just by thinking about it. And she was—”

“A traitor,” Damian finished. 

“A traitor,” Todd agreed. He was buttering more toast. “It almost serves him right. Bluebird was raised by the Bat. He shouldn’t have been so careless with his name, but they trusted her even though she was an outsider. She was a fourteen-year-old psychopath and a plant by a… I guess you could say he’s a man. Deathstroke the Terminator.” 

“Another spirit name?”

“Yeah, just think how rosy that guy’s soul is with a name like that. There’s some backstory, but we’ll skip it. Bottom line, Deathstroke was an enemy of the Titans.”

“What was he?” 

“A science project,” Todd said in revulsion, “Not even a real monster. He’s an artificial one. He has supernatural healing and reflexes. Nightwing said he was a manufactured monster hunter, but something went wrong. Now he’s a mercenary for any side that pays him enough. He’ll work for anyone. He’s still around. Deathstroke’s not an easy guy to kill,” Todd explained darkly.

“So this Terra… she told Deathstroke Nightwing’s name?”

“Essentially.” 

“What did they do?”

“Attacked, what else would they do? The Titans had stirred up crap with another supernatural group, H.I.V.E. They were the type to do experiments on innocent people. World domination sorts. The Terminator took up their contract. He captured the Titans and delivered them wrapped in a bow. Everyone except Nightwing.”

“Why not?”

“Because Dickie-bird knows how to jump out of a building and keep himself hidden. The ending’s bittersweet enough. Terra dies, the Titans are saved, Deathstroke escapes and lives to scheme another day.” 

“But he knows Nightwing’s name.” 

“And that can never be taken back,” Todd agreed grimly. 

His mind whorled at the implications, “Then… why has he left Nightwing alone, if this Deathstroke is such a villain?”

“Deathstroke is a mercenary. He does evil shit if he’s paid to do evil shit. He’ll do good shit if he’s paid to do good shit too I suppose—not that anyone on the side of light would actually hire him. Him and Bluebird have this… thing.”

“Another monster attracted to his essence?”

“No, I don’t know if that’s even an issue with him. It’s more… Nightwing’s that one black spot on a pristine record.”

“One he wants to eradicate?” 

“No… it’s more complicated, ask Bluebird, maybe he’ll tell you the whole story. From the bits I’ve heard it borders on creepy. The point is, one day years later Deathstroke’s pulling a job in Bludhaven and needs to distract its guardian, our very own Dick Grayson soloing alone in the big city. Lucky for Deathstroke he knew the perfect guy for the job. There was this demon, Desmond. He owned half the city supernatural and otherwise. He gets his eyes set on the pretty bird that had been causing him problems. Desmond was licking his lips every time that pretty bird got within his sights. Such a rare creature that he could break and consume. All Deathstroke had to do was whisper in Desmond’s ear and Nightwing was his.”

Damian shivered, “What do you mean _his_?” 

“Names carry weight and control in our world. A witch’s spell has that much more power with a name. A fey’s enchantment is that much stronger. You become a demon’s doll, a plaything when they know your name. They can do whatever they want to you and you won’t be able to stop it.”

“But Nightwing’s fine!” Damian protested. He was standing now more upset than he should be. Nig-Grayson was fine. Ni-Grayson was smiling all the time. He couldn’t have been— “If he went through something like that surely—”

“Dick hasn’t put on that mask again until this very day, kid. He left our world because of what Roland Desmond did to him. A world he loves.” 

“No, that’s—”

Todd seemed to be getting angrier the more he talked and Damian realized it wasn’t towards Deathstroke or Desmond, it was towards _him_.

“That’s one of the reasons why that demon inside you is so scary. It knows all our names. I have a bit of defense against it because of my own nature, but Dick and Tim don’t. They in turn are the secret keepers of many in the supernatural community, hell, the majority. Batman was paranoid. He had to know who everyone was so that he could make countermeasures if they ever went bad. He trusted Nightwing and Red Robin with those names. Your demon could do horrible things to them, make them talk. You’re the perfect plant in the perfect family. Bat’s code dictates they can’t kill you, and I can’t kill a human and, besides all that, Bluebird’s too attached to you to let anyone hurt you. Meanwhile, _he’s_ watching in the back of your head knowing everything you know. You need to understand the danger you’re putting us all in. If that thing comes out and takes control he wouldn’t have to touch a hair on their head to cause damage and if he’s powerful enough then even I won’t stand much of a chance.”

Damian stared at him angrily. 

“That’s why you don’t tell people your fucking name,” Todd finished. He seemed to calm down a bit. He sighed as he realized he had ripped up his last piece of toast. 

“It’s not your fault,” He said grudgingly. “It’s the Bat’s. I shouldn’t be so harsh. I know how having a stigma like demon blood can be, but you shouldn’t be coddled. You should know how it stands. You’re dangerous to more than just yourself, Dick or the rest of this family. If he’s powerful enough and smart enough your demon could deal a huge blow to the side of light.”

_But that’s not what he wants—_

Dick and Dr—Red Robin _Drake_ re-entered the room both looking more frustrated than when they left. Dick hid it better. He smiled at the two of them.

“You cover everything?” He was looking at Damian when he said it, maybe realizing Todd’s explanations on the hows and whys tended to be jumbled.

“I learned to never share my name,” Damian replied. “And that apparently ‘magic’ is a suitable answer for everything.” 

Dick chuckled, “Well…”

“I also learned it is important that others don’t share their name with me.” 

Dick frowned and glanced at Todd.

“What does he mean by that?”

“I told him how it is,” Todd replied. “Him knowing names is dangerous.” 

Dick looked more resigned than angry. “Good,” he finally said. He looked down at Damian, “It’s … I don’t like blocking you out, but this one’s important. Don’t go looking for people’s real names. We’re going to stop the thing demon, but—” 

“—Better not to risk it. I get it Grayson. Todd’s right, there’s no need to coddle me. I want to know all I can so I can arm myself against it. If it means there are things you can’t tell me then I understand. Just be straight with me, please.” 

Grayson nodded seriously, “Okay.” 

“Is it talking to you now?” Drake asked. He had been unusually quiet up until that point. Damian shook his head.

“When I woke up it was silent. It feels like it was never there, but I know it hasn’t left me. It’s biding its time. I think it’s waiting for something.” 

He still expected a smug snarl from the demon, but it was silent.

“So what do we do?” He asked. 

“We go see Oracle,” Drake replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two!!! Yay!!! Here's a few notes. 
> 
> Jason's explanations: They aren't that clear because he never had a real interest in how the 'magic' works, nor was he around long enough for Bruce to beat it into his head. He leaves that stuff to Tim and Dick. 
> 
> Alfred: So when I was writing the shorts I wanted to do one with Alfred being a complete and total BAMF and I kept putting off posting his story because it didn't really fit in anywhere and then I realized that it was important to the plot and then I realized that it needed to be part of the main story because if people skipped it they would have no idea where certain plot elements were coming back and thus we have Alfred at last. Yay. 
> 
> If anyone's confused about how the magic-y stuff works and Jason's response of "it's magic" doesn't do it for you, just drop me a line and if it isn't spoilerific I shall answer your questions.


	2. Oracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go to see the Great and Powerful Oracle. Damian reveals how the demon's memory is affecting him.

Alfred spent most of his youth on the stage. He felt an uneasy sense of déjà vu as the light around him seemed to fade in and he found himself in the sitting room of Wayne Manor. It was the one that the family favoured, small, intimate and a bit worn from age. The room probably hadn’t changed since Bruce’s grandfather roamed the halls. 

Bruce sat in his usual chair looking slightly troubled. That wasn’t uncommon. Parked on the floor in front of the fire was Richard, but he was only a little boy, no more than nine or ten. Bruce looked younger as well now that Alfred was paying attention. 

The boy was quietly talking to himself. To an outsider it may seem like an innocuous scene. Perhaps a child and his imaginary friend, but Alfred had seen it many times before. The more the boy talked the more upset Bruce appeared. 

“There’s no one there Dick.”

The child jerked, he had been completely engrossed in his conversation. “What?”

“No one is there.”

The boy looked hurt as he had many times before, “But there is! Ace is right here,” Dick petted thin air. 

“He’s not real. It’s an echo, Dick.” 

Alfred remembered many scenes like this. This was early on, before Richard took his place at Bruce’s side as a partner. Bruce was disturbed by the boy’s interactions. He was the authority on the paranormal and he thought he knew ghosts. From his research and the research of those that came before him it was clear: ghosts were shadows. They were no longer fully formed. Only wisps of memory. They could be seen in their shadowy form by mediums; their energy and ectoplasm could be seen by other supernaturals and; if the emotional ties were strong enough, aspects of them could be seen, heard or felt by loved ones. Richard’s interactions were different than anything he had ever encountered before. 

It scared Bruce Wayne that there was an aspect of his life’s work that he could be so wrong about; an aspect that affected Richard who he had come to love. 

Alfred was sad to say it took a long time for Bruce to accept the extent of the boy’s powers, but when he did it opened up f his research. Suddenly ghosts weren’t just benign shadows anymore. They were mysterious creatures… creatures that could affect his ward. 

There were nights Bruce confided in his butler. He would admit his fears. Fears he never brought up with Richard even when he grew old enough to understand. 

_"Imagine if he had not been John Grayson’s son. Any other father would think Dick was mentally unwell. They would lock him up or medicate him. Worse, what if he hadn’t had that bird talisman? Any vengeful spirit could have taken him if they only asked politely. What if a demon took a fancy to him or, a Fae or an Old God? It makes sense that we’ve never encountered a person like him before. His odds of survival were nearly zero.”_

“He’s not!” the boy said angrily pulling Alfred away from his own memories. Richard stood up in front the sitting Bruce, who peered down at him with a serious look, “You’re wrong! Ace is right here and it’s Ace!”

“It’s a shadow. Ace is dead.”

“HE IS NOT!!!” The boy turned towards Alfred desperately as he had in the past, “Tell him Alfred. Please tell him. Ace is right here with us. He’s not a shade, he’s a dog!” 

Bruce’s anger rolled through the room, but he pulled himself back from shouting. He took a few deep breaths before quietly telling the boy, “Alfred isn’t here.”

Dick looked like he had been slapped. 

“Sir!” Alfred said in protest, but his employer ignored him.

“He’s gone.” Bruce reached out and put a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “We’re alone now.” 

“YOU’RE WRONG!!!” Dick screamed stumbling back. He ran to Alfred. The butler automatically put his arms around the boy, gently stroking his hair trying to calm him. 

“What do you think you’re saying?” Alfred hissed. Bruce didn’t spare him a glance.

“Dick, stop it.”

“He’s right here,” Dick said his voice muffled by Alfred’s coat. 

“Go to your room.” 

“BRUCE WAYNE!” Alfred said sharply. Dick looked up with wide eyes. Alfred rarely shouted. He burst into tears and ran. 

“Bruce!” Alfred repeated. Bruce only watched the young boy’s back as he ran out of the room. As soon as Richard was gone a look of self-disgust flashed over his face. He stared down at the floor for a second and then up towards where Alfred stood.

“Are you—no,” He shook his head, stood and quickly left. The fire went out by itself startling Alfred. Alfred closed his mouth, then went to Richard’s room.

-

Gotham’s old clock tower had always had an eerie air to it. Looking at it through the mask took the gothic architecture—shadowed, graceful, beautiful—to a darker place. All around it dark shapes swirled and writhed. Damian expected them to spill forward toward Dick, but they kept in place.

“What does it look like to you?” He asked with quiet awe. 

“Indescribable,” Dick replied with a sad smile. 

They moved in with little trouble. The staircase inside was ten degrees colder than it was outside, a chilly autumn morning in Gotham. He shivered and watched his breathe stream up. There were no ghostly shadows here, just darkness and cold. 

“Who is this Oracle?” Damian asked, “Are they controlling these spirits?” 

“Yes,” Dick nodded.

“A medium and a prophet,” Drake explained, he does like to explain things. “Powerful, experienced, and quite frankly a genius. Not only with the supernatural either.” As he said that he opened the door to the upper part of the clock tower. 

It was pitch black. Damian’s eyes had only adjusted when hundreds of computer screens came on at once temporarily blinding him. On the screen was a face. Neon green, yellow pupiless eyes, androgynous.

There was a great and powerful Oz joke in there somewhere, but Damian wasn’t going to be the one to make it. 

****

**_“Who goes there?”_**

The voice was robotic. It was a false version of a man and woman’s voice blended together. 

“Well,” Dick’s grin was uncanny in the green light. “I don’t know about Scarecrow, Lion and Tin Man here, but I was just thinking that ‘there’s no place like home.’”

_Typical._

**_“Oh,"_** The Oracle said bluntly, **_"It’s you.”_**

The lights turned off. Damian stared in fascination, Dick’s markings glowed, strong enough that he could see that the lines continue under his shirt across his shoulders and down his chest. 

**_"Dorothy, a word.”_ **

“Be right back guys.” 

The faint blue glow moved away and then disappeared. Damian tensed. Normal lights flickered on bathing the remaining three in yellow light. It was a circular room with black computer screens surrounding them, there was nowhere that Dick could have gone, never the less he was nowhere to be seen. 

“I’m totally Scarecrow.”

“You are not,” Drake said waspishly. “Scarecrow was smart. You aren’t smart. I’m Scarecrow.”

“No, no Princess,” Todd crossed his arms, “Scarecrow’s the cool one.”

“You’re the Tin Man.”

“Pfft, no! Tin Man was a big softy. I’m a badass that doesn’t look back.”

“So then you’re the Lion?”

“What? No! He was a sissy!”

“But underneath he was courageous,” Tim said, annoyed. “And you’re always talking about how you’re not afraid of anything.” 

“Listen, I’m the Scarecrow, you’re the Cowardly Lion and Bat-Brat’s the Tin Man—or the dog, brat might be the dog.”

“What’s taking them so long?” Damian had tried to tune out the entire conversation.

“Eh, don’t worry about them, they go way back,” Todd said flippantly. 

“They’re friends?” Damian asked.

“Best friends,” Drake said.

“More than friends,” Todd said.

The two glanced at each other.

“More than friends,” Drake conceded.

“Just friends,” Todd shrugged. 

“It’s complicated,” They both decided. 

“Nightwing and Oracle were both trained by Batman around the same time. That’s all we really know about it,” Todd said. “We’re pretty sure Oracle is a woman and that Bluebird and her had a thing.”

“Why wasn’t she adopted like the rest of you then?” 

“What part of we don’t know much about her don’t you understand kid?” Todd grunted.

**_"Gossiping birds in my roost? How cute.”_ **

The green head flickered back onto the screens.

**_"Little Robin, will you walk into my parlour?”_ **

“Said the spider to the fly…” Damian muttered suspiciously. 

**_"Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;/ The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,/ And I’ve a many curious things to shew when you are there.”_ **

The lights flickered off again.

“Not this ag—” Todd’s voice cut out abruptly, like a recording being turned off. In front of Damian was a long staircase revealed by bright white light. 

“Todd?”

He waited. 

“Drake?”

No answer.

“‘Oh no, no,’ said the little Fly, ‘to ask me is in vain,/For who goes up your winding stair/ can ne’er come down again.’” Damian whispered looking up the long staircase. 

**_"I do love boys who know their poetry.”_ **

Damian climbed the steps. 

-

It didn’t take long for him to reach the top, but it took longer than he thought was possible. 

_Shouldn’t the clock tower have ended by now?_

He came to a plain wooden doorway. He hesitated and opened it. 

It wasn’t what he expected. 

It was a monitor room. Dispersed throughout the space were knickknacks and coffee mugs. Keyboards and wires spilled all over the place. Dick was leaning over the back of a chair. His arm slung over the shoulders of a redheaded woman. 

_Redhead, of course._

They seemed very close. Once again he waited for the demon’s possessive growl, but only silence met him. 

Dick turned, nodding at him in greeting. He moved away from the chair and—

It wasn’t a computer chair as Damian had first assumed, it was a wheel chair. 

The chair was maneuvered to face him. The face that had greeted him on the screens was the mask she wore. Her long red hair spilled around her shoulders. 

_I feel like I should know who this is, but I don’t. I’ve never met this woman before in my life._

Maybe it was the mask. If what Todd said was true then he could be looking at his own mother and not know it was her.

 ** _"Nightwing speaks highly of you.”_** That strange voice said, ** _“But he says your demon nature has revealed itself.”_**

“It’s not my nature,” Damian denied, “The demon is separate.”

**_"It talks to you?”_ **

“Sometimes.” 

**_"Is it talking to you right now?”_ **

“He slumbers, plotting his attack against me.”

**_"Let me talk to the boy alone for a moment.”_ **

Damian was surprised at Dick’s lack of protest. He had been annoyingly over protective since the start of this. No, even before that, after his father died. 

“He trusts you a lot,” Damian said slowly after Grayson had disappeared behind the door. 

**_"I’ve earned it,”_** Oracle replied. 

“And you trust him?”

**_"I do. He’s earned it.”_ **

Do you know who he is?

**_"Yes.”_ **

“Do you know who I am?”

**_"Yes.”_ **

“How? Doesn’t the mask—”

**_"Your mask identifies you with the Bat-fam. Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Robin, all of you are connected. It’s the same with Nightwing and me. If you know one then it is possible to gain the other names. You are a family you are the youngest, it is obvious who you are when knowing the identities of your brothers.”_ **

“But Red Hood said the mask should block my name anyway.”

 ** _"Magic can be hacked as easily as a computer and Red Hood doesn’t understand the ins and outs of these talisman as well as some who wear or study them.”_**

“Good to know. I supposed I don’t I get to know who you are.” He remembered Todd’s warning.

 ** _"That would be fair if it was only you in that cute little head of yours, sure,”_** Oracle’s alien-like head tilted.

Damian crossed his arms unconsciously.

 ** _"Nightwing has asked me to see if I can find a solution to your problem, but to do that you need to trust me with everything.”_**

Damian stared at a mug. _World’s Best Hacker._

**_"Do you think you can do that Robin? Trust a stranger?”_ **

“What’s his name?”

**_"Whose name?”_ **

“...Nightwing.”

**_"Richard John Grayson.”_ **

“He trusts you and I trust Grayson.”

**_"I like you, Damian.”_ **

“What do you want me to do?” Damian uncrossed his arms self-consciously. 

**_"Talk to me a little. Nightwing said you haven’t told him what you experienced when the demon first awoke_ **

Damian took a few steps back, started walking around the circular room. “We haven’t had the time to discuss it. Red Hood showed up and then we had to come to Gotham and then Red Robin and I don’t trust those two.” 

**_"And you don’t want to scare him.”_ **

It reminded him of a session with his shrink except Oracle didn’t grate his nerves so much as make him feel uncomfortable. He forced himself to be honest. He needed any advantage he could get over the sleeping demon. 

“…Yes, I don’t want to scare him, but I did want to…ask him about it. Can't he talk with us?” Damian knew he trusted Grayson, but despite what he said, he wasn’t sure if he could trust the Oracle. Especially after the story Todd told him about Deathstroke and Desmond. 

_"But even after all that he still trusts her._

**_"Just you and me for now, Robin. Tell me everything and later you can choose if you wish to share with your brother. Nothing you say will ever pass my lips.”_ **

“When it woke up…” Damian began slowly. “It had been asleep a long time… but it also felt like…” It was hard to explain. “It felt like I had been asleep a long time too. It started speaking through me and to me. I saw flashes of my own memory rewritten. Things I thought I had experienced had been experienced by him in an entirely different context. I… I remember living in a cult. My Grandfather was the leader and everyone followed him. Believed he was a god, but that wasn’t the case. He was surrounded by worshipers and slaves. He was a demon, a monster, and I—the demon did terrible things to those worshipers and slaves. He had control of my body during that time and I… I barely even existed.” He felt a wave of coldness. He had tried not to think about those memories. If he didn’t focus and think hard about them his fake memories would remain steady, more real than the horror in his mind. He wasn’t looking at Oracle anymore he was staring at the wooden door. “I didn’t exist until I was at the police station waiting for my father to come. My implanted memories took root and I… I developed, I took control for the first time, but I wasn’t… I didn’t know how to be a human yet, not really. I was a shell.”

He hated it, he hated feeling reduced to a non-entity. 

**_"When did you finally connect to humanity? When Bruce Wayne took you in?”_ **

“No. It was Nightwing.” Damian turned toward her again, “In my father’s house I was left alone. My father didn’t know how to deal with me and, in retrospect, must have distrusted me. He studied me, tried to shove his morality down my throat, but otherwise left me to my own devices. Red Robin took on a hostile attitude. The Butler kept his distance. I didn’t realize I was so removed from humanity, so incomplete until after my father died and Nightwing took me in. Nightwing… saw me. Forced me to interact with the world…” _loved me_. “The demon… it implied that if no one had ever reached me he would have taken over again. I would ‘join his cause.’ Perhaps that means I would have been absorbed or destroyed. I don’t know. I don’t know how much is truth and how much is lies.”

**_"How does the demon feel about Nightwing? If he was the one that introduced you to your human side, allowed you to strengthen your hold on the body then surely he must be resentful of him.”_ **

Damian went red. He wasn’t flustered, but…she did give her word it would not leave this room. “It’s the opposite. The Demon is enamoured with Grayson.” 

**_"Enamoured?”_** She sounded amused at his choice of words despite the seriousness of the situation. **_"Because of Nightwing’s energy?”_**

“Yes…no. He says that’s an added bonus. He claims to be taken with Nightwing because of my own … feelings toward him.”

**_"There’s no shame in admitting you love your big brother, Robin.”_ **

Damian stared at her standoffishly. 

**_"You really are his son, aren’t you?”_ **

“The demon said it had never felt anything like those feelings before… I… the others are worried that it might try to take over or destroy the world. That it might go after those on the side of good. That it will do evil and cruel things, but the one thing it wants right now above all that is…”

 ** _"It wants Nightwing.”_** She didn’t sound surprised. 

“I think it wants more. I think it’s been trying to keep me off balance, but I haven’t… I haven’t had time to think. It’s hidden right now and I can finally think.”

**_"You think its intention towards Nightwing is a bluff to rattle you?”_ **

“No, he wants him…I can feel its…desire, but there are other things going on as well. I try to look into its memories as it looks into mine, but… it’s too… it’s terrible.” He’d rather leave his false memories in place than let those horrific acts flood his mind. 

**_"What about your dreams?”_ **

“I don’t want to talk about my dreams,” Damian said very quickly. 

**_"Why is that?”_ **

“I just don’t.”

**_"You said you’d trust me.”_ **

“Not with them.” 

She seemed to realized there was no arguing with him. 

**_"…Very well. Come here.”_ **

“Why?” He asked suspiciously. 

**_"I’m going to see if the demon is truly trapped or if it is just lying in wait for the right opportunity.”_ **

Damian approached. He wanted to know that too. The demon had so easily taken control back in the apartment. He held Grayson easily, his talismans didn’t seem to slow the monster down at all. Nothing would have been able to stop him so why had he relinquished control?  
He stood in front of Oracle and she held out her hand softly touching his forehead. 

**_"I’m basically about to hack your mind. Don’t freak out, just let me in.”_ **

Damian didn’t get a chance to respond. Suddenly he felt the force of _her_ inside him. Instinctively his mind tried to struggle away, but her voice echoed in his head:

**_"I’m not going to harm you. Just step back.”_ **

He couldn’t have stopped her anyway, she was too strong. He felt her everywhere in his brain, firing off his neurons, inspecting every idea and memory.

_Get—get out._

**_"You’re doing fine, I’m almost done.”_ **

“GET OUT!!!” He roared, but it wasn’t him and it wasn’t the demon. He clutched his head. He was on the ground. He opened his eyes. Oracle’s chair had rolled back several metres and smashed into her control center. Her head lolled. He feared he might have hurt her.

 ** _"Wow…”_** She groaned. 

“What happened?” He demanded, “What did you do?”

 ** _"Wasn’t me little Robin. There’s a shield inside your head that’s guarding your psyche. It threw me out and it’s what’s keeping the demon at bay, at least for now, but it’s weakening. I can feel it, but I did get some idea about how it works, why the demon escaped the first time. The shock of hearing about your origin woke it up. You must have felt betrayed that Nightwing didn’t tell you before, right?”_**

“I understand why he didn’t.”

**_"But at the time.”_ **

“Yes, I did.” 

**_"You disconnected from your anchor to your human side. All your negative emotions fueled the demon. That’s how he got out.”_** She sounded excited by what they were uncovering. There was compassion and sympathy, but her analytical mind and curiosity were ablaze. Damian realized to her he must be unique and interesting.

“And when I saw he was a danger to Grayson I reconnected.”

**_"Exactly.”_ **

“But who put up the shield? My mother?” 

**_"Sorry little Robin, I have no idea. For all I know it was Bruce.”_** She reached behind her and pressed down a button. **_"You can come back in, Dorothy.”_**

It took Grayson a grand total of five seconds to appear through the door. He surveyed the scene with startled amazement. “What happened?!” He stared between the two, at the damage to the control panel and the dents in the wheelchair. 

**_"Your little brother has a sharp mind. Don’t worry, he’s alright. So am I. I have a place for you to start. The demon is trapped, but it won’t be for long. There’s a shield protecting your little brother’s mind, but it’s cracking. If you find who made the shield then you might be able to find a way to reinforce it.”_ **

“What happens if it breaks?” Dick asked. Damian hadn’t noticed that Grayson had put a protective hand on his shoulder until just then. He didn’t knock it away. 

**_"I don’t know. The shield stops the demon from taking over, but if Robin is strong enough he may be able to control the body himself. It depends on who’s stronger, him or the monster.”_ **

“How do we find out who made it?”

**_"I’ll work on it here on my end, but I don’t have any answers for you right now, I’m sorry. I have a prophecy for you. It might guide you in the next steps you need to take.”_ **

“Alright…” Grayson said hesitantly. He approached Oracle. Damian stayed in step with him, not wanting to lose contact right now. Dick reached out and took her hand. 

**_"A Bat and a Robin flying together once again. A perfect cycle. The Robin becomes the Bat. A lost world you need to become part of once more. Old enemies become allies. A boy in a graveyard.”_** She let go of his hand. **_"That’s it I’m afraid.”_**

“Thanks for your help O.” Dick said sadly.

**_"Anytime and… Nightwing? It’s nice to see you again. It’s been a long time. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”_ **

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, having so much trouble with formatting grr. All of Oracle's text is supposed to be green, but I've had it trying to fix the darn thing, I'll fix it later. So for now it's just her intro that's green.
> 
> So about the masks. Basically they can be hacked, so if you know the name of someone who wears one and you have some sort of magical hacker ability (or whatever) you'll be able to know who other people are by associations. That's how Desmond did it and how Babs does it.
> 
> ...It's magic.

**Author's Note:**

> Part two!!! Yay!!! Here's a few notes. 
> 
> Jason's explanations: They aren't that clear because he never had a real interest in how the 'magic' works, nor was he around long enough for Bruce to beat it into his head. He leaves that stuff to Tim and Dick. 
> 
> Alfred: So when I was writing the shorts I wanted to do one with Alfred being a complete and total BAMF and I kept putting off posting his story because it didn't really fit in anywhere and then I realized that it was important to the plot and then I realized that it needed to be part of the main story because if people skipped it they would have no idea where certain plot elements were coming back and thus we have Alfred at last. Yay. 
> 
> If anyone's confused about how the magic-y stuff works and Jason's response of "it's magic" doesn't do it for you, just drop me a line and if it isn't spoilerific I shall answer your questions.


End file.
